The Faerie Ring

by Kiki Hamilton

  “How’s Clara?” Tiki asked. She freed her long, dark braid from her jacket and began to unweave the strands, anxious to massage the tension from the back of her head.

  As if in response to her question, a deep gurgling cough rose from a small lump next to where Fiona had huddled. The cough ended in a raspy sigh.

  Tiki turned toward the sound. “She sounds worse.”

  “Aye, she’s been coughing a mite more,” Shamus agreed.

  Six months ago, Tiki had stumbled over the little girl curled up in a pile of trash on Craven Street outside Charing Cross. Tiki had taken her home and cared for her, but for weeks she wasn’t sure the little girl would live. In the ensuing months, Tiki had worked hard to nurse Clara back to health. Not more than four years old, the frail child had continued to improve until three weeks ago, when the cough had started again.

  Tiki moved across the room, her eyes adjusting to the dim light. Deeply asleep, Clara clutched Doggie close to her face. A pang of love pierced Tiki’s chest with such fierceness that it made her breath catch. She would need to find some medicine for Clara in the morning. She couldn’t bear the thought of the little girl being so sick again.

  Gently, she pulled a blanket up over Clara’s shoulders, resting the backs of her fingers along the little child’s soft cheek for a moment. She felt warm enough, but the congestion in her chest made her breathing labored.

  Tiki sank into one of the chairs as Shamus tore off a hunk of cheese and sat on the floor beside her, one arm wrapped around his knees.

  “I was so hungry,” Toots said in between bites, “that my stomach was knockin’ on my backbone. An’ the bobbies were as thick as flies on fish today.” Even in the dim shadows, his red hair seemed bright and his pale face was covered with freckles. He took a bite of bread, chewing with his mouth open. “That’s why I thought they’d caught you. They were everywhere.”

  “And it was so bloody cold,” Fiona said, “that Shamus made me stay home with Clara. And Mr. Binder wanted him to come in and talk about the bakery wagon today, so he and Toots only got to work the streets for a few hours. They came back and said the crowds were too light to even pick a pocket.”

  Tiki looked over at Shamus. “What did Mr. Binder want?”

  Shamus shrugged. “Wanted to know if I could drive a carriage. Said maybe I could fill in when his regular driver doesn’t show up.”

  Tiki smiled. “That would be wonderful, Shamus.”

  “Yeah, if he pays me.”

  “Is the pot empty again?” The pot was where they stored the extra coins they were able to steal. Their stash was hidden beneath a floorboard in the far corner of the room and was used for food on those days when they couldn’t steal enough for a meal or pick a pocket.

  “’Fraid so.” Shamus nodded.

  Tiki pulled out the coins that she’d collected at the World’s End. They made a soft clinking noise as she laid them on the table, the silver, copper, and bronze gleaming in the light of the candle. “There was a pretty good crowd at the pub tonight, but I had a close call with MacGregor.”

  “You didn’t try to pick MacGregor’s pocket, did you?” Toots gasped.

  “MacGregor is vicious when he drinks,” Fiona said in a quiet voice. “I saw him beat a woman once.”

  “I didn’t try.” Tiki grinned proudly. “I did it.” She held up two gold quid. “But he chased me out of the pub and I hopped a carriage that took the long way home. That’s why I fell asleep.” She nodded at the coins. “We can use some of this for food, but I’m going to go to the apothecary up in Leicester Square first thing in the morning and get something for Clara’s cough. She doesn’t sound very good.”

  “She waited a long time for you to come home, Teek.” Fiona’s brow furrowed in a worried expression. “But she was so tired she finally fell asleep.”

  “Well, that’s what we all should be doing,” Tiki said. “It’s got to be close to two in the morning.” She made a shooing motion with her hand. “Toots, get back to bed.” Toots scrambled across the hard floor to his pile of blankets on the opposite side of the stove from where Fiona had been huddled. “We can talk in the morning.”

  Fiona followed the boy and crawled back into her own ragged pile of blankets, pulling them over her shoulders with a shiver. Tiki waited for Toots to settle in. It wasn’t long before snores sounded from his corner of the room.

  “I’ve done something,” she said in a low voice.

  “What is it this time?” Shamus asked. “Or should I ask who? Did you find another orphan to live with us?”

  A year ago, she’d found Toots, thin as a rail, in Trafalgar Square. His mother had thrown him out of the house because she had too many other children to feed and care for. But even though he’d been starving, he’d offered to share half his apple with her. She’d brought him home to Charing Cross that day.

  “And what if I did?” Tiki said. “I’m thankful every day that you and Fiona had it in your hearts to help me.” After her parents’ death, Tiki had been sent to live with her mother’s sister, Aunt Trudy, and her aunt’s banker husband. It had been only a matter of months before it became evident to Tiki that the well-to-do veneer of her uncle’s position hid a dark side. Her skin crawled with fear as she thought of him watching her each night as he drank his whiskey. There was a look in his eyes that didn’t need words to define. Even now she could hear the creak of the floorboards as his uneven footsteps staggered down the hallway, searching for her.

  She had fled from their house for her own safety, intending to seek shelter with Mrs. Adelaide Bishop, a dear friend of her mother’s. But upon her unannounced arrival on Mrs. Bishop’s stoop, she’d learned the woman had also died of the fever two weeks prior.

  Unsure of where to go, but knowing she had to hide from her uncle, Tiki had gone to King’s Cross railway station. There, the small valise she had taken with her from her uncle’s was stolen and she’d found herself with nothing. Then she’d met Fiona, who took Tiki to meet her cousin Shamus and showed her the hidden little room they shared in Charing Cross. They’d lived together ever since.

  “But it’s not a who this time.” Tiki lowered her voice. “I took something.”

  “Oh.” Shamus perked up. “Something good?”

  Tiki nodded at Shamus through the dim light. “Yes, it’s something completely brilliant if I don’t get caught.” She hesitated, then added, “This could be our way out of Charing Cross, Shamus. Into a real home.”

  He tilted his head at her, and Tiki could make out the frown on his face. “Blimey, Teek, what’d you do? Steal the crown jewels?” His teeth flashed as he grinned at his own joke.

  “Next best thing,” Tiki whispered. A thrill of excitement shot through her as she waited for his reaction. “Belongs to Queen Vic herself.”

  Shamus’s brow drew down in a surprised frown. “Go on.”

  There was a rustle of cloth as Fiona wrapped a blanket around her shoulders and crept closer.

  “I couldn’t sleep,” she whispered. She turned big eyes up to Tiki. “What’d you steal, Teek?”

  Tiki recounted her tale of hitching a ride on the boot and waking up at an unknown mansion. “I didn’t realize it at the time,” she whispered, “but the blokes in the room with me were Prince Arthur and Prince Leo, and for a minute the queen herself was there.” Tiki giggled and her voice danced with excitement now that she was out of danger. The story sounded fantastical even to her ears.

  “So you took the ring?” Shamus asked. He spoke with a mixture of disbelief and awe. “And nobody saw you? Nobody knew you were there?”

  “Well, a few maids and a little boy saw me snitch the bread, but nobody saw me take the ring.” She grinned at him. “I was like a bloody ghost.”

  “We ate the queen’s bread?” Fiona breathed.

  “An’ what’d you do with the ring?” Shamus said.

  “I hid it. That way we’ll be safe until we can figure out a way to sell the thing.” She looked over at both of them
through the flickering candlelight. “That is, if we can sell it without getting caught.”

  “I’ve heard Rieker talk of a bloke over in Cheapside who buys things,” Shamus said.

  Tiki grabbed his arm. “No. Not Rieker.”

  “Why not?” Fiona asked. “He’s practically a legend. I heard he knows everyone.” She gave Tiki a lopsided grin. “And he’s handsome.”

  “I don’t know … there’s just something…” Tiki hesitated. “He’s a bit dodgy. He’s been around too much lately. He was even up at the World’s End tonight. It’s like he’s following me.” Her voice wavered with concern. “I’m afraid he wants part of our territory.”

  “The queen’s ring,” Shamus repeated with a dreamy air. “How much do you suppose the thing’s worth?”

  “I don’t know,” Tiki replied. “Maybe a hundred quid, eh? Enough to rent a nice flat over in Kensington and put some food in the cupboards, anyway.” She nudged Shamus with her elbow and grinned. “We could pretend to be brothers and sisters. I could be a governess and Fi can be a seamstress. Toots will go to school and you could work for Mr. Binder. We’ll be a family, just like we’ve always planned.”

  Tiki gazed around the familiar room as her words seemed to echo in her ears. They’d talked about leaving Charing Cross before, never really believing it could happen, but why couldn’t their dream come true? She’d stolen something that would let them escape their daily struggle to survive. Now all she needed to do was sell the ring.

  Chapter Four

  THE distant whistles and roar of the steam engines coming and going in the station woke Tiki the next morning. She shivered against the cool air and pulled her shabby blanket tighter, wishing for one more hour of sleep. The even breathing of Toots and Fiona as they slept was the only sound in the room until Clara’s deep cough pulled her upright. Tiki shoved the blanket aside and hurried across the room in her worn nightgown to check on the little girl.

  Shamus sat before the stove, poking at the burning coal through the small front door on the box with a long metal pole. He motioned to the kettle and raised his eyebrows at Tiki. “Do you want a cup?”

  Tiki nodded at Shamus as she knelt and brushed the little girl’s tangled blond curls from her forehead. “Hello, sleepyhead.”

  Clara stared up at Tiki with adoring eyes. “Tiki, you’re home. I waited up for you.” She reached up and held Tiki’s hand with her tiny fingers, her eyes lingering on Tiki’s wrist. “How come you have your mark covered up? I think it’s pretty.”

  Toots pushed himself upright and yawned, stretching his hands high over his head. “You know why, Clara. It’s because she doesn’t like it. That’s why she hides her wrist all the time.”

  “I don’t either,” Tiki said, even though Toots was right. “Mr. Potts was staring at it when I was in his bookstore yesterday and it made me uncomfortable.” She didn’t mention Rieker’s strange reaction to her birthmark.

  “That’s because he thinks it’s pretty, too,” Clara said.

  “Ol’ Potts thinks you’re pretty,” Toots teased Tiki. “That’s why he lets you read his books for free. He likes your green eyes. They remind him of the hills of Ireland,” he said. “Heard him say it myself.”

  “No, he doesn’t.” Tiki glared at Toots. “He thinks I look like his dead daughter. That’s why.”

  “And he thinks you’re pretty,” Clara cried. Her words ended in a coughing spasm, the congestion rattling in her chest.

  “Why do you always want to go and read Potts’ papers and books anyway?” Toots interrupted.

  “Clara, sit up.” Tiki put an arm behind the little girl’s back to support her. “Maybe that will make it easier to breathe.” She patted Clara gently on the back, waiting until the little girl drew a deep breath again before she answered Toots’s question. “I like to read. I learn a lot by reading.”

  “Like what?” Toots shrugged off his blankets and moved toward the table, where he reached for a chunk of bread.

  “Well, I read about faraway places. Like tropical islands that are surrounded with water as blue as the summer sky,” Tiki replied. “And I learn about foreign lands where they make things, like silk for a lady’s dress, from the thread of a worm.”

  “They can make a lady’s dress from a worm?” Toots asked. He shuffled closer to the stove and took the tea Shamus offered, taking a deep drink from the chipped cup.

  “Oh, the most beautiful dresses in the world are made from silk,” Fiona said. “And in every color. Like the rainbow.”

  “That’s right.” Tiki nodded. “There’s lots of interesting things in books. And you get to meet people you might never know otherwise. Like in this one story, a little boy named Jack trades his cow for some magic beans and he grows a giant beanstalk all the way into the sky.”

  “And does it grow giant beans so they never run out of food?” Toots’s eyes glowed.

  “No.” Tiki lowered her voice. “Jack climbs the beanstalk and finds a hen that can lay golden eggs.”

  “Golden eggs?” Clara’s eyes got big.

  “But the hen belongs to a giant. So Jack decides he’s going to steal it.” An image of the queen’s ring popped into her head.

  Toots laughed and nudged Shamus in the ribs. “He’s a ruddy pickpocket just like us.” He looked back at Tiki, his face alight with curiosity. “And what happens?”

  “Yes, tell us, Tiki, what happens?” Clara’s voice was high with excitement. “Did Jack get the golden hen?”

  Tiki shrugged. “I can’t really remember. Maybe we should read it together and see what happens.” She grinned at Toots in a sly way. “Maybe you should read it to me.”

  “Oh, Tiki, that ain’t right.” Toots’s face fell as he suddenly realized her ploy. “I don’t want to learn to read.”

  “You need to learn to read. You don’t know what you’re missing.” Tiki turned away to hide her smile. “I’ll tell you the rest of the story tonight if you promise to practice your reading with me.”

  “Say yes, Toots.” Clara turned pleading eyes on him. “Pleeeeeaaaase.”

  “I don’t know,” Toots grumbled. “Maybe.” He walked across the room to his favorite perch and pressed his eye against the peephole.

  Shamus poked at the meager amount of coal in their stove as Tiki went to warm her hands. He lifted up a tin kettle. “There’s a bit of tea left, if you want. An’ a little cheddar.”

  Tiki held her cup out. “Just a spot. I’m going to go up to the apothecary’s over in Leicester Square this morning. You take Toots and see if you can find some bread or potatoes for today. If I have any money left, I’ll get something from the muffin man and some apples from Mr. Albertson’s cart up in the market at Covent Garden.”

  Shamus nodded. “I think Fiona better stay with Clara again, don’t you?”

  “Yes.” Tiki rubbed her arms to try to warm up as she glanced toward the windows facing the railway station. A spill of light cast a watery beam across the long room. “What time do you think it is?”

  “Almost ten.”

  She took a big gulp of her tea. “I better get going.” She moved to the back of the room, pulled open one of the drawers built along the back wall, and lifted out a blue dress. “I’ll need a few coins from the pot to pay Mr. Lloyd for Clara’s medicine.”

  “All we’ve got is what you brought home last night.”

  An image of the ring hung in the back of her mind like a glittering star. Was it still safely hidden in the knot of the tree? A sudden desire to see the stone again, to hold the ring in her hand, burned inside. Did she dare go check? She pushed the idea away and slipped behind the privacy screen—a blanket hung over a rope they’d set up in the far corner of the room—to change into the dress. “Then we need to work on getting a few more coins today, too.” She wouldn’t mention checking on the ring, she could do that on her own.

  * * *

  THE wind blew a gust of frosty breath down the lane as Tiki made her way out of Charing Cross Station. She
cut across the Strand and headed toward Trafalgar Square. From there she could follow Charing Cross Road straight up to the apothecary’s shop. She shivered in her dress and pulled her threadbare cloak tighter as she walked. The dress and cloak were all she had left from when she had run from her uncle’s house. From the way the seams tugged at the bodice, she knew she wouldn’t be able to wear the garment much longer.

  The word REWARD scrawled in bright red on a handbill tacked to a nearby lamppost caught her eye. She moved closer to read the printed message.

  IMPORTANT NOTICE

  To the Tradesmen, Ratepayers and Inhabitants of London particularly in the area of Buckingham Palace

  REWARD!

  £500

  RING GONE MISSING

  GOLD BAND CAPPED WITH FIRE-RED STONE DISAPPEARED IN THE EVENING, FRIDAY, DECEMBER 8TH

  If you have any information, contact

  Captain Davis-Smith of the Royal Horse Guards

  It was as though someone had poured the icy brown water of the Thames down her back.

  Tiki reached a shaking hand up and tore the handbill free, staring at the paper in shock. For a second, the words faded away and she could see the flames flickering in the heart of the bloodred stone. Was the ring still safely hidden in the tree?

  “There must be something fascinating on that page the way you’re staring at it.” Rieker’s voice was a teasing whisper in her ear, his lips close enough that his breath warmed her skin.

  Startled, Tiki loosened her grip on the handbill and a gust of wind yanked it free, sending the page sailing away. “Why are you sneaking up on me, Rieker? What do you want?”

  He gave her a half-grin, his eyes dancing as though he were laughing at her. “I almost didn’t recognize you. Why are you dressed like a girl today?”

  “None of your business,” Tiki snapped. “Are you here to give me more advice?”

  Rieker’s smoky eyes, framed with those ridiculously long lashes, were locked on her. “Are you ready to listen this time?”